Remembering Grandview’s Jake Snakenberg

Posted By
Ryan Casey
On
October 17, 2010 @ 2:26 am
In
Football |
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I sat down to begin writing our package on concussions[1] on Sept. 19. Unknowingly, it was the six-year anniversary of the passing of Jake Snakenberg.

Snakenberg was just a freshman when he died from complications of repeated concussions – more specifically, Second Impact Syndrome – in 2004. His mother, Kelli Jantz, and Karen McAvoy, who wrote the REAP project[2] our story is focused around, have done wonderful things in his memory, including the establishment of the Jake Snakenberg Fund, which will provide financial assistance for the furthered research and education on concussions. REAP itself is dedicated to Jake’s memory.

I met Kelli for the first time in late August, and for nearly an hour we talked about Jake, concussions, football, and REAP.

One of the first things she said during that conversation has stuck with me ever since: “In sports,” she said, “(concussions) seem sort of accepted. But somebody in a car accident hits a windshield, and everybody’s all over that.”

And she was right. Sure, the culture has radically shifted around concussions in the past 5-10 years, but, especially at the high school level and younger, there is still something that hasn’t quite clicked for everyone.

Concussions have long been an interest to me. It’s what drove my research for this story. (Full disclosure: I had four concussions as a high school athlete[3].) It’s a topic I can talk about for hours on end – and trust me, as my friends and editors found out over the past two months, I did, to anyone who would listen.

Looking back on that research, and the hours I spent talking to various experts in the field – neurosurgeons, neuropsychologists, athletes, coaches, parents – I can honestly say that the part I enjoyed the most was getting to know Jake through his mom.

“He was a coach’s dream,” Kelli says with a smile that day I first met her. “Loved being with his friends. Loved sports. Loved football. Took it very, very seriously. He would give it 100 percent.

“Football was a big part of his life. He played it since he was little. I remember thinking, ‘These little guys hit?’ He played baseball as well. Probably, given the opportunity, he hadn’t gotten into it yet, but I’m sure he would’ve been a snowboarder.

“You know how every family has that social butterfly?” she adds. “He was our social butterfly. Everybody would be sitting around on a Friday night. Not Jake. He’d be out with friends. Places to be.

“He was somebody who looked out for other people. Kind of teddy-bear like. He was a big boy. Very, very caring. Looked out for the underdog. He had a giggle that just was disarming, and probably kept him out of a lot of trouble. He was a lot of fun. A lot, a lot of fun.”

He was quite the prankster, too.

“He and his friends used to play what they call the Refrigerator Game,” Kelli says. “Boys. They’d go to the refrigerator, and the deal was, they’d have to eat whatever he’d get out. He’d hand out things like anchovies.

“The story that we always tell is that one of the girls and her boyfriend was over,” she continues. “We have these two big dogs and the dishwasher was open, and the dog was licking the dishes. They’re watching the dog licking the plates, and Jake turns and says, ‘Yeah, that’s prewash. Sometimes, it’s so good we don’t even have to run the thing.’ And (Jake’s friend) is eating off the plate.” Kelli laughs. “Jake said it dead-panned. Straight face.”